


I've Got A Dark Alley And A Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth

by damiensirius



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Implied / Referenced Depression, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Pre-Slash, There isn't much of a plot, and stuff, failing High School, inspired by Fall Out Boy, just a peaceful night spent together, just read it, making future plans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 02:12:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4811003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damiensirius/pseuds/damiensirius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short Destiel AU pre-slash fic, inspired by the song I've Got A Dark Alley And A Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth by Fall Out Boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got A Dark Alley And A Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> [Title and fic inspiration ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mbFTxHcGQqs)

Dean left the house, pulling the door closed behind him quietly. Not that he really feared getting caught; his father was passed out drunk anyway and Sam was over at his girlfriend’s place.  
It was a really nice night, just the perfect temperature to be outside with a sweatshirt and not being too cold or too hot. Also the moon wasn’t much more than a thin line and so it was almost pitch black as Dean headed down the street along broken streetlamps and carelessly thrown away garbage.  
He reached the old playground – from which wasn’t much more left than a rusty swing, a broken slide and a few frail benches – soon and headed to the back of it, knowing he’d find him there.  
“Hey.” Dean slumped down on the ground and leaned back against the tree.  
Castiel was sitting on the only bench that was actually still stable enough to not break down under the weight of a person and held a finger up, signifying Dean to wait a moment for him to finish writing the line before he looked up. “Hey.”  
“How’s your poem going?”  
Castiel shrugged and adjusted the flashlight, which was almost rolling down from the bench. “Good, I guess.”  
“Can I read it?”  
“Not yet.”  
Dean nodded and reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small Ziploc bag. “You want too?” he asked while also fishing for the rolling paper and the filters.  
Castiel looked up and shrugged. “Sure.”  
Dean nodded and started rolling while Castiel picked up his pen again and continued writing.

For years, they’d never talked, barely ever recognized the other one’s existence, simply because they had different friends and there had never been a reason or even an opportunity to talk to each other. Also they had never recognised any similarities between them, and what was the point of talking to someone you had nothing in common with?  
But a few months ago, Dean had gotten the glorious (and he didn’t even mean that sarcastically) idea to swipe some pills he’d found in his father’s jacket and he’d gone outside because it had been one of the last warm autumn nights. Anyway, at some point he’d ended up on this playground. He didn’t remember all the details but he’d ran into Castiel – who apparently had come here at night to write for years – and according to him he’d been more or less freaking out because of some hallucinations and since Castiel had recognized Dean from seeing him at school and had also been worried Dean would hurt himself, he’d persuaded him to stay with him, so he could keep an eye on him.  
And since then, they met most of the nights here, even throughout the winter, sometimes just hanging out, sometimes getting drunk or high together – although Dean now made sure he didn’t take anything that made him hallucinate anymore, because the few things he _did_ remember from that night were rather horrifying.  
Of course they’d gotten to know each other pretty well during this time. Turned out that even though Castiel’s and Dean’s families couldn’t be more different, the two of them had ended up pretty much at the same place. Both were completely fucking up their education – but while Dean just honestly didn’t care because his father wouldn’t pay for college and let him go there anyway, Castiel struggled with horrible depression (untreated, because his parents didn’t ‘believe’ in mental illnesses) which sometimes made it impossible for him to go to school or keep up with all the work.  
Although Castiel had said he would just give it up to try to get good grades now, Dean knew that it was a lot harder for Castiel to accept that he was failing most of his classes than it was for Dean. He had four older brothers, all of them had been valedictorian and had gotten into elite-colleges, whereas for Dean, it was only one genius-brother, also a younger one.

“Excited for your brother’s visit?” Dean asked him and skidded closer to pass him the joint.  
“Ugh, shut up,” Castiel groaned. “Michael’s the worst. Especially since he finished college.”  
“I’m sure it’ll be alright.”  
“Oh, yeah. Tell me again when ma gets another hysterical fit and Dad starts flipping tables.”  
Dean had done the mistake before of assuming ‘flipping tables’ was meant metaphorical. He knew better now.  
“How’s your dad doing?” Castiel asked him then.  
Dean shrugged. “Drunk. Angry. Paranoid. Nothing new.”  
Castiel reached out and turned Dean’s head sideways to take a look at the black eye Dean’d gotten last week because he’d made the mistake of actually trying to talk to his father.  
“He didn’t hit you again?”  
“Threw a glass after me when I came home from school today. Didn’t hit though.” Dean leaned back on his elbow as he took the joint back from Castiel. “Doesn’t matter though. Five more months and I’m gone.”  
Castiel scoffed. “Where do you want to go?”  
“I don’t care. As long as I get away from here. I’m good with cars. And I can cook. I’ll find something.”  
Castiel snorted amused and rolled his eyes. “You’re a hopeless case.”  
“ _You_ are hopeless. I can do this, man. I’m gonna get away from here.” He kicked lightly against Castiel’s shin. “Just gotta believe in it.”  
Castiel shook his head lightly. “What about Sam?”  
“Sam? He’s fine. The Moore’s have practically adopted him.” Dean sat up straight again and gave the joint back to Castiel for him to finish it. “Also _he_ will get into college. He’s a genius.”  
Castiel sighed and closed his notebook and put it down on the ground, leaning back and lying down on the bench, his legs dangling over the edge. “You’re stupid,” he said softly and turned his head to look at Dean.  
“Maybe.” Dean moved closer and absently curled one of Castiel’s locks around his finger. “But can’t you understand why I want this?”  
“Of course I do. But we’ve talked about this so many times before, Dean. You need to be realistic. You’re barely scraping your High School graduation. People won’t exactly fight to have you as an employee.”  
Dean rolled his eyes. “So what? I know it won’t be easy. But it’s still better than being caught here for the rest of my life.”  
“Tell me about it,” Castiel sighed.  
“Well, just come with me then.”  
Castiel grimaced. “Don’t be silly.”  
“I’m not. I mean it. Just come with me. I mean, what’s holding you here?”  
“My family. Literally. They’ll want me to repeat my senior year until I get into a good college. They won’t let me leave.”  
“It’s no different than how you’re sneaking out now night for night. Well. Apart from the coming back part I mean.”  
Castiel laughed; more than what Dean had said actually deserved, but he was always giggly when he was high. “Nah, man. They’re gonna kill me.”  
“Can’t kill you if they can’t find you.” Dean raised an eyebrow.  
Castiel just shook his head lightly, but didn’t say anything.  
“I’m serious, though. Come with me.”  
“And then what am I supposed to do? I can’t do anything.”  
“You can write. Focus on this. Publish it. You’re so talented, Castiel.”  
Castiel snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. I’m a dead end, Dean. We both know that.”  
“Seriously.” Dean punched him lightly in the arm. “Just because we don’t make it the conventional way, doesn’t mean we can’t make it at all. You need to stop comparing yourself to others. You’re not to blame for the huge mess your life and your family is. Just as little as me. We’ll do it our own way and everything will come to its place. – Seriously, Castiel. I don’t want to be known and remembered for everything I have failed. I want to prove that I can do it.”  
“You’re always so fucking deep when you’re high.” Castiel started laughing and sat up.  
“At least I’m not just sitting there and laughing my ass off.”  
Dean used the opportunity that Castiel didn’t block the whole bench anymore and sat down on it next to him.  
When Castiel had stopped laughing, he went completely silent for a moment. “Would you really take me with you?” he asked then quietly.  
“Of course, Cas.” Dean nudged him with his shoulder and turned his head to look at him. “You’re my best friend, man. I’m taking you everywhere.”  
Castiel smiled lightly, although his eyes looked sad. “Thank you, Dean.” When he turned his head as well, their faces were close together, it wouldn’t need more than for one of them to lift his head and their lips would touch. But neither of them did.  
Dean knew he liked Cas. Like… _really_ liked Cas. And he also knew that Castiel liked him too. But they both didn’t want a relationship. Not with each other and not with anyone else.  
Falling in love and getting into relationships was what fucked everything up.  
Example number one, Dean’s family. His parents had loved each other more than anything and when Dean’s mother had died, she’d left his father behind as a paranoid alcoholic with absolutely zero self-preservative instinct and unable to take care of his own children.  
Example number two, Castiel’s family. His parents’ obsession of having the perfect marriage and the perfect family had driven Castiel’s father into a spiral of cheating and aggression problems (of course everything well hidden, so no one would see how it actually was behind the façade of the perfect family) and his wife into morbidly denying that her husband was unfaithful even though she knew exactly that he was, leading her to go into conniptions every time something didn’t work out exactly the way it had to be. And of course there were Castiel’s brothers, all of them having grown up with the false knowledge that they were absolutely perfect and everything they did was the right thing. Michael, for once, had been reported because of domestic abuse when he’d been twenty-five, Balthazar had been in trouble because he had raped someone and Gabriel and Lucifer had stood in trial because of financial fraud.

So no, Dean really didn’t want to ever fall in love or to get into a relationship and risking to destroy everything for something like this, and Castiel didn’t either. But as well as they both knew this, they also knew that _if_ this ever changed… there was only one person in line for it.


End file.
